Sister Swap
by merderjunkie
Summary: What if a different sister had come to Seattle in Let the Angels Commit - perhaps one more qualified to dispense psychiatric advice? Ficlet, season three, MerDer. Tiny bit of angst, mostly fluff. Read and review!


**A/N: Hi everyone! I've often wondered if Season Three would have turned out a little differently if Meredith and Derek had restarted on a different (healthier) foot. This ficlet will explore season three from a different starting point - Kathleen instead of McBitchy!**

**I own nothing; Shondaland and ABC own all.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I put the Jeep in park and looked around. Not surprisingly, today was grey, depressing, and rainy. That was typical of Seattle. Derek's trailer blended in pretty perfectly with the steely sky, and to the casual observer, nothing was amiss in his little piece of paradise.

But I knew Derek's land like no other.

And that shiny silver Mercedes-Benz didn't belong here.

Despite the large portion of my brain yelling at me to leave well enough alone, get out of there and pretend nothing had happened on prom night; despite the fact that just weeks ago, I finally felt like I could maybe live without him; despite the fact that I knew going in there would shoot all of that to hell, I jumped out of the driver's seat and started the trek from the nearest paved surface across the lawn to the door.

I tried not to look to my right and get too attached to the view all over again. The first time I'd slept over here, I'd spent hours looking off the edge and thinking about how my mother had been _so_ wrong. But it turned out that I was the one who was wrong. And now, there was a strange car parked in his "driveway" that wasn't really, and I didn't know which way was up, and I was determined not to get my hopes up all over again.

_After all,_ the more cynical part of my mind reminded me. _Derek didn't seem to have a problem with screwing and ditching before I found out about Addison; why shouldn't he now?_

And then there were the events of the last week. I'd told him in the elevator that he'd gotten his wish. I'd dumped perhaps the most perfect guy in the world for me, because I loved Derek. And he ignored me. _Ignored me. _Was "backing out" really just a cop-out. Some excuse to give up on the dark, twisty, not-as-pretty-as-he'd-first-thought intern? Or was there something legitimate going on? Doubtful.

But I was determined to believe the best in him. This was the man I loved, and would always love. As much as I'd wanted to forget him forever over the past few months, a part of me was resigned to the fact that I would never love anyone else quite as much as I loved him. So I ignored the cynical part of my mind and continued on my journey to the door.

But someone had beat me to it.

She was tall, dark, and beautiful. I'd wager about 5'10", supermodel slim, with hair that rippled and waved its way down her back. She was dressed in all-designer clothing, some with labels that I recognized while some articles, such as her pencil skirt, just _emanated _couture.

I think I died a little inside.

Of course this was who he went for next. He wanted someone more couture and less casual. Someone more beautiful and less blah. Someone more striking and less sleepless.

I didn't know what I'd been thinking. I was a tired, run-down, bottom-of-the-surgical-food-chain intern that had blood all over her scrubs on a regular basis. He was an attending, with reasonable hours and sleep and two million dollars a year. Just his _hair_ was out of my league, let alone the rest of the charming, sweet-talking, wealthy, intelligent package – not that I cared about that, but that was the thing. He wanted someone that dropped like a fly for his act, and lusted after his money. I was a challenge; now that he knew he could have me, I wasn't fun anymore. I blinked hard as I realized: I really _was_ the girl he screwed to get over being screwed. And now that he was over it, he'd moved on to bigger and better things. It really had been the thrill of the chase. And now that was over, he'd moved on to someone easier and less challenging than me. Someone with less baggage. Someone who could trust him.

The sound of my footsteps had attracted the woman's attention, though, so as much as I wanted to turn on my heel and head straight to Joe's for my standard bottle of tequila, I was forced to stay as she smiled brightly at me and attempted to engage me in a conversation.

"Hi, I'm Kathleen."

Well, now I had a name to put next to the face. "Great," I replied, my voice sounding strangled. "Meredith, nice to meet you."

Her smile grew. "Meredith?"

"That's the name." So she was one of the _dumb _pretty ones. I hadn't pegged Derek as the type to go for something like that. I'd figured she must be a lawyer, with her friendly demeanor but calculating eyes.

"_Derek's_ Meredith?" _What?_

"I wouldn't exactly call me _Derek's_ Meredith," I said bitterly. "But I know what you mean. More importantly, how do you know about that?" I didn't recognize her from the hospital; was it possible the gossip had traveled outside of the Seattle Grace walls?

"Oh, sorry, I must have you so confused," she practically giggled, and my stomach churned. Everything she did and said made me more and more nauseous. "I'm – "

But before I could find out just how much my heart would require me to hate this woman, the door to the trailer swung open. A small trickle of steam wafted out and hit me in the face, matching well with Derek's shaggy, wet head and damp t-shirt. Rivulets of water ran down his neck, and I swallowed, hard, at the memory of the salty-sweet taste of the skin there. His eyes flickered to Kathleen, then to me, then quickly back to Kathleen as his mouth dropped open.

"I really don't like you," he smirked, obviously jesting, and Kathleen grinned in response.

"You love me, Derbear," she giggled, and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. "I think we're freaking your girlfriend here out a little bit, though."

Derek seemed to notice me again finally, and pulled out of Kathleen's embrace. "Meredith," he greeted kind of as an afterthought, though his eyes were appropriately startled and pleading, and my own eyes narrowed. "I can explain."

All I could think was... _How?_


End file.
